


The Art of Innuendo

by LozaMoza



Series: Moments [20]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Innuendo, One Shot, because Geralt and Yennefer, sexy times on a boat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LozaMoza/pseuds/LozaMoza
Summary: How many sexual innuendos can one author fit into a fluffy smut piece that takes place on a boat at midnight under a full and heavy moon?When it's Geralt and Yen...a lot
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Moments [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806943
Comments: 32
Kudos: 85





	The Art of Innuendo

**Author's Note:**

> So, there's three purposes of this little fic. 
> 
> First: To claim back the boat sex that Shani stole from Yennefer and Geralt in the Hearts of Stone DLC  
>   
> Second: To practice naughty innuendos as much as possible.  
>   
> Third: Who doesn't love smut with these two?!

She watched the witcher diving under the water, plants in hand like some sort of amphibious herbivore, and she laughed. The scenario was ridiculous. Completely absurd. Yet here she was - sitting in a leaky boat no less - watching him under the silvery light of a heavy moon on the evening before the summer solstice, collecting plants for his potions. Underwater plants. That apparently smelled vile. At least he was currently storing his catch in a bag under the water and away from her nose.

Witchers and their potions.

He popped his head out of the crystalline lake water and smiled. A poet would probably describe that smile as roguish, maybe wolven if they were in the mood for animalistic comparisons, but Yennefer knew that smile. 

That was _ hunger. _

She felt it too.

“You gonna join me yet? I promise you the water’s warm and wet.” She rolled her eyes at that, but had to admit it was tempting. Geralt had stripped to nothing before jumping into the lake, and seeing the light of that full and heavy moon highlight the lines of his body had made her inwardly groan.

But still, she couldn’t appear too...eager. The Dragon Hunt in the Kestrel Mountains had been less than a month ago. She needed to keep her guard up, her hackles raised. She refused to allow herself to fall for him the way she had done before in Vengerberg. She refused to feel that kind of crushing pain of waking alone in an empty bed with a posy of violets and a note. She refused. 

But  _ damn _ that witcher and his smile. Damn him and his hands that she would crave the moment they left her body. Damn him for weaving himself into her mind, her thoughts, her very being, in a way only he had ever done.  _ Damn him. _

And now, mere weeks after their reunion, she was falling into him again wholly and completely. When he had suggested she travel with him to his ancestral home of Kaer Morhen to collect a very specific ingredient for his potion, she had agreed without a moment's hesitation. It had surprised him; it had shocked her. 

_ “Fuck” he muttered, reaching through his saddlebags.  _

_ “What is it?” She was stretching languidly, happily tangled in the sheets, having slept till past mid-morning. “And why are you rummaging through those things right now? Come back to bed, Witcher.” _

_ He turned to her. “I’m out of Killer Whale.” _

_ “A sentence I’d never presume to hear,” she smiled. _

_ He grinned at that. “It’s a potion I use to dive underwater.” _

_ “Simple, don’t dive underwater.” _

_ “So much for those drowner contracts then,” he laughed. “Yen, I need that potion, unless you’d rather I add drowning to the list of potential demises I’ll face.” _

_ She grimaced at the thought of that. She hated the risks he took on his contracts to begin with, hated what those devilish potions did to him, and their fights on the subject had been vicious. But him at even  _ more  _ risk?  _

_ “What do you need?” _

_ “Buckthorn. Simple enough, but the problem is I can’t use the local varieties. The waters are too polluted this far from the mountains. Without the purest plants, the potion is useless. I’ll need to go to Kaer Morhen.” _

_ “Kaer Morhen!?” But that’s weeks of travel from here!” _

_ His eyes looked pained. “I know. I don’t like it either.” He stopped for a moment. “Yen, would you...I mean, would you be willing to go there with me?” _

_ “Yes,” she said without thinking, and the immediacy of her response surprised her as much as it obviously did him.  _

_ “Yes? Really?” he seemed shocked. _

_ “Yes, really.” His grin was wide at that, and he pulled her to him, kissing her neck and jawline as she melted into his touch. “On one condition.” _

_ “Hmm?” he moaned, moving down to her chest. _

_ “We travel by portal.” _

_ “Fuck.” _

Yes, she certainly didn’t recognize herself around him anymore. She was also starting not to care.

“Haven’t you collected enough? I still don’t understand why you insisted you have to do the gathering at midnight.”

“Like I told you, you need the moonlight.”

“Yes, yes, the plant’s buds are stimulated by the light of a full moon, I understand, but midnight is still…” but Geralt’s smirk stopped her.

“Buds are stimulated, huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “Spare me your juvenile wit, please,” she snarked back at him.

“I don’t think I will,” he narrowed his eyes, and before Yennefer even realized what was happening, he grabbed her and pulled her into the water with a large and very ungraceful splash. 

“GERALT!” she shrieked as the water soaked through her clothing, her hair, everything. “GODSDAMMIT!” She tried to splash him, tried to smack him, but he was too quick for her, grabbing her hands lightly and pulling her into him. 

“Gotcha,” he grinned, and he kissed her, hard. 

Suddenly, being wet didn’t seem so terrible. She threw her arms around his body, allowing his powerful strokes to hold them above the surface. She kissed his neck, feeling him pulse beneath her, and she sighed. She needed a hard and stable surface, now.

“Geralt,” she whispered, and he was nearly too far gone to respond. His erection was pushing against her traveling pant leg, and she lifted one arm to remove the offensive barrier between their skin. Her clothing dissolved into a glittering stream of blue and white sparks.

“Yen…,” he groaned in response. Her nipples pressed into his chest as her hair fanned out around them like an upturned bottle of ink. His hands explored her curves, and she felt his legs stroking the water faster to keep them afloat.

“The boat,” she said as she bit his ear. He grinned that wolfish grin once more and they swam the short distance the current had carried the boat. He lifted her into the craft, then pulled himself aboard. He stood there staring at her, his erection thick and full, while the water caught the moonlight as thin rivlets dripped down his taught frame. She bit her lip and he smirked. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Damn him.

Fortunately, two could play that game.

She opened her legs, exposing herself to him, and his gaze darkened. Just as the water was dripping down his thick musculature and making her pulse in need, the droplets collecting on her intimate curls sparkled lightly in the moonlit sky. Geralt licked his lips.

“Take me, Geralt,” she said in a voice deep with lust. 

He dove into her so quickly she nearly laughed and fell over. His mouth was on her clit in seconds, swirling his tongue and pressing against her. Her hands went to his damp hair, pulling him deeper into her, and when he added his two fingers, curling them inside her, she cried out in a low moan. She could feel her orgasm starting in her belly, that point of ecstasy that would contract in on itself before exploding its release, and she encouraged him to push harder into her. 

As if to accentuate his understanding, he chuckled once and took his teeth to her clit, pulling it gently.

The point exploded around her, and she screamed as waves of pleasure crashed over her, again and again. He continued working her center, he didn’t let up, and another orgasm rushed in to claim her. “Geralt!” she cried out, her body shaking. She lost control as the second orgasm drowned her in waves of bliss and Geralt had to catch her before she fell off the wooden bench of the boat. 

He pulled her back to the seat and cradled her against his chest for a moment, allowing her body to recover. “Like I said, moonlight stimulates the bud.” She turned to him, his golden eyes glittering in mischief, and she pulled his mouth to hers for a heady kiss, tasting her pleasure on his firm lips.

She wasn’t done yet.

She straddled him and without any preamble sank onto his length. She was slick and tight and the feel of him entering her, of her stretching to accommodate him, was enough to make them both cry out. She started to move and he gripped her hips, trying to keep up with her thrusts, but she wanted him too much for sweet and slow. She wanted explosive ecstasy, and she snaked her hand to massage her clit as she rode him, relishing the friction. Once again that delicious pleasure began to build, and from Geralt’s jerkier responses and guttural pants, she knew he wouldn’t last much longer. His hands suddenly gripped her hips in a vice-like clamp and she felt his cock fill inside her. He screamed, loud and low, as his release claimed him, and the sound of it sent Yennefer flying over the edge one more time, her body collapsing into a crumple against his firm chest as her final orgasm rippled throughout her. 

*******

“Yen?” he sighed as he kissed her hair softly. “You still with me?”

“Mmmmm,” she responded as she sighed against his chest. He laughed. 

“Thank you for traveling with me, Yen.” His tone was different. There was no braggadocio, no mocking lilt. It was honest and sincere. “I’m glad you’re here. I....well, I didn’t want to be away from you that long.”

She smiled against his skin. “I’m glad I came, too.”

“Three times if I’m counting correctly,” he laughed and kissed her temple once more.

“You’re incorrigible, Witcher.” She shivered slightly, so he pulled her tighter against him. She conjured a blanket to block out the chill of the night air and he wrapped it around them both.

“Want to go in or stay on the lake a little longer?”

“I’m perfectly content,” she responded, and she was. 

“Here, in the middle of a lake on a leaky boat? Yennefer of Vengerberg, what's happened to you?” he laughed. 

_ You happened, Witcher,  _ she thinks to herself, and she cuddled in closer, allowing the subtle rise and fall of his chest to lull her to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this silly little piece! Comments and kudos are so appreciated!
> 
> And hey, no angst!


End file.
